


Not A Dream

by actualgayrobot



Series: Ill-Timed Love [2]
Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: BBL Route, M/M, Post-Canon, human versions, spoilers for BBL route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualgayrobot/pseuds/actualgayrobot
Summary: Sakuya fulfills his promise and goes back for Ryouta.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Over six months later, I finally wrote a sequel of sorts to my Sakuryou oneshot. I never thought this day would come.
> 
> I love these gay boys.

Shirogane La Bel Sakuya was not a personal fan of Iwamine Shuu, for many obvious reasons. He tolerated the man, however, as he had a promise to Ryouta to fulfill and, though he hated to admit it, he needed the doctor’s help.

Seeing Kazuaki pushing his wheelchair, though, was not something he had expected. Nonetheless, he couldn’t let his surprise distract him from what was really important.

“Anyway,” Sakuya said, waving his hand flippantly at Shuu, “I need to talk to you. I have the results from the experiment the other day.”

Shuu’s eyes lit up, his grin more morbid than genuine, “There were no problems?”

“None at all. It was a perfect success.”

“Well,” Kazuaki began from behind the wheelchair, “I guess… that means it’s time, doesn’t it?”

Sakuya gave the two a curt nod, “I have the date. If you can come, please do.”

 

The day couldn’t come any sooner, in Sakuya’s mind. He wasn’t a patient person—not that he’d ever admit it—and waiting more than a few hours was difficult for him. The days up until returning to the facility below Saint Pigeonation’s were quite possibly the longest days of his life.

He met Shuu and Kazuaki outside the school, early one Saturday morning. He was earlier than the two, of course, but they didn’t take long.

“You’re here early, Shirogane,” Shuu noted, his tone humorous, giving Sakuya a knowing look.

Sakuya shot the doctor a glare, refusing to acknowledge the statement, turning to Kazuaki instead, “If you’d please, Mr. Kazuaki, I don’t want to keep Kawara waiting much longer.”

“Yes, neither do I,” the narcoleptic teacher responded, his smile soft and genuine. Sakuya appreciated his teacher’s sincerity.

He arrived at the entrance faster than his teachers—seeing as Kazuaki did have to push Shuu’s wheelchair still—and waited with baited breath. He let his teachers lead after, watching over their shoulders as Shuu instructed Kazuaki how to start the de-cryogenic freezing process.

Sakuya’s eyes were glued on the door, silently waiting for the process to finish—which was _eons_ too slow. As soon as Shuu gave him the go ahead, Sakuya pried open the door.

“Wake up, Kawara! Hiyoko!” he exclaimed, “I told you I wouldn’t go back on my word!”

He found Ryouta just inside the door, blinking at him slowly, looking as if he’d just woken up from a nap.

“Sakuya?” he asked, his voice barely audible. He placed his arms at his side, slowly pushing himself up onto his feet. When he tried to take a step, he crumpled immediately. Sakuya lunged forward, catching Ryouta before he could hit the ground.

“Hey, take it easy, Kawara! You haven’t used your legs in nearly a year!”

Ryouta muttered inaudibly into Sakuya’s chest, weakly gripping his arms.

“Oh my, maybe we should’ve brought another wheelchair,” Kazuaki said from the doorway.

Sakuya looked over his shoulder, glancing at Kazuaki then Shuu.

“We could always just dump Iwamine here and use _his_ wheelchair.”

Kazuaki looked appalled, but Shuu just laughed.

“Don’t forget who still has to administer the antidote, Shirogane,” he said, too smug for Sakuya’s liking.

Sakuya squinted at him, “Yes, yes, I’m well aware. I’ll carry Kawara out, if need be.”

He helped Ryouta to the doctor’s side, watching Shuu pull on a pair of gloves before fishing the vial out of his pocket.

“Needle, Kazuaki?” Shuu prompted.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course.”

Ryouta looked over at Sakuya, still attempting to take in everything.

“This… isn’t a dream, is it?”

“I sure would hope not. Do you dream in cryogenic sleep?”

Ryouta had to think about it for a few seconds before responding, “No, not that I can remember.” He paused a moment, before his eyes widened, “Wait, you don’t look much older. How long have I been here?”

“A little under a year.”

He hardly seemed to notice when Shuu grabbed his arm, rolling up his sleeve to give him the antidote.

“You found a cure in less than a year?”

“Yes? A La Bel wastes no time in important endeavors. Besides, I had a promise to fulfill.”

“Well, yes, but that’s—I thought it’d take a bit longer than that,” Ryouta admitted. “Ah, not that I thought you couldn’t do it or anything…!” he hurriedly added.

Sakuya hardly noticed that Shuu had already administered the treatment until he spoke, “You’re good to go, Kawara.”

Ryouta turned to his teachers, looking down at his arm in surprise.

“That was it?”

“Were you expecting more?”

“Well, I was expecting something more… intensive.”

“If that’s what you want, Kawara, I’m sure I could put something together—”

Sakuya was quick to interject, “Not on your life, _doctor_.”

“My!” Shuu exclaimed with a grin, “Touchy, aren’t we?”

Kazuaki stepped in before Sakuya could properly respond, “Shirogane, why don’t you go ahead and take Ryouta home. We’ll close up here.”

Sakuya figured his best course of action would be to listen to him.

 

Sakuya walked Ryouta home, supporting most of his weight while Ryouta adjusted to his legs again. It was a slow travel, but Sakuya didn’t mind. The weather was nice enough and though Ryouta didn’t say much—likely busy taking in the view and getting used to the sky again—Sakuya found comfort in feeling Ryouta by his side.

When they came to Ryouta’s house, he finally spoke up.

“Oh, goodness, I forgot to ask—how is my mother?”

“Hmm? Oh, she’s well. Been in and out of the hospital, as usual, but she’s not close to death, I assure you.”

“In and out of the hospital? I need to pick up my jobs again, pay off her medical bills—”

Sakuya held up a hand, cutting him off, “No need, I’ve already taken care of it.”

Ryouta looked at him as if he were an actual angel, descended from heaven.

Sakuya fidgeted under his stare, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Sakuya.”

“What? No, don’t mention it, anyone would’ve—it’s fine.”

“I’ll make it up to you when I can, I promise.”

“Not necessary, it wasn’t any trouble. Just rest and get used to your limbs again, or whatever it is you need to do.”

“Yeah… yeah I will. Thank you.”

Sakuya helped Ryouta to the front door, helping him unlock the door and walk inside.

“I can take it from here, Sakuya. My legs feel much better.”

Sakuya looked like he didn’t believe him, but left his side regardless.

“Thank you again, Sakuya. Really, I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“No need, Kawara, like I said.” He paused, looking away in embarrassment before speaking sincerely, “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.”

Ryouta waved him goodbye, closing the door behind him.

Seeing his house again was strange—and it felt too empty. He wished his mom was home, but her health came first. He dragged himself to the kitchen, belatedly realizing they probably had nothing to eat. His heart sank. He didn’t have the money to order anything, or the energy to leave the house. He could call Sakuya, but he’d done so much already…

Ryouta decided to check the fridge anyway, to scrounge up whatever he could find.

When he found it full to the brim with food—including foods he could never afford, he was floored.

A memory flashed in his head—him and Sakuya in one of the classrooms, during the school shut down, running away from the scarecrow that was later discovered to be Hiyoko—and he turned, dashing to the door.

Or, he tried to. His legs weren’t ready for that kind of activity, apparently, and he barely made it a few steps before collapsing. Silently cursing his weak limbs, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sakuya’s number.

He answered after two rings, “ _Kawara?_ ”

Too many sentences ran through his head: ‘You didn’t have to spend so much money on me’, ‘I’m sorry I forgot about when we kissed’, ‘I made a mistake and now I’m on the floor’, ‘I need you’.

What came out of his mouth was: “Come back.”

Sakuya was at Ryouta’s door in seconds, his breathing slightly labored from running.

“Kawara?” he asked from the doorway, scanning the hallway. When he found Ryouta on the ground, he ran.

“What did you— you’re hopeless, Kawara, I can’t leave you alone for two minutes—” 

When Sakuya kneeled to help him up, Ryouta pulled the aristocrat closer and gave him a chaste kiss.

Sakuya froze, stunned, unsure of what to do or say.

Ryouta placed his hands on Sakuya’s arms gently, “Sorry for putting you through all this. And for forgetting about what happened between us before. And for being so poor that you needed to help pay my mom’s hospital bills, and for food, and—”

“Ryouta.”

He stopped at the sound of his first name, surprised. Sakuya never called him ‘Ryouta’.

The two made eye contact, Sakuya’s expression serious.

“You don’t need to apologize. I did it because I wanted to.”

Ryouta didn’t know how to respond, but he didn’t have to. Sakuya closed the distance between them again, kissing him deeply, slowly. Ryouta let his eyes drift closed, kissing Sakuya lazily back.

“You’re exhausted,” Sakuya observed when he pulled away.

Ryouta chuckled softly, “Yeah, my limbs are like jell-o, and I feel like I haven’t eaten in months.”

“You haven’t.”

“Oh. You’re right.”

Sakuya rolled his eyes, helping Ryouta up and leading him to the kitchen.

“Alright, what do you want? Make it something easy, I can’t cook.”

“You can use a microwave, right?”

“What? Of course.” He scoffed, and then paused, “… remind me, what’s a microwave?”


End file.
